


Prom Night

by Lucy



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy/pseuds/Lucy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce is depressed about the upcoming prom. Tony doesn't get it, until he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prom Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is a drabble requested on my tumblr that got out of hand. Just a bit of fun.

For some reason in the weeks leading up to prom Bruce got more and more sullen. Normally Tony would have dismissed it as, well, Bruce being a sensitive little dork same as he always was. But there seemed to be a direct correlation to the prom itself.

Bruce would be walking down the hall, books cradled to his chest like always – a shield to ward off possible frontal attacks, though no one had gone after him since Tony had taken him under his wing – and he’d lay eyes on one of those gaudy posters announcing the Under the Sea themed dance and his face would just cloud right up.

“Who cares about prom anyway?” he mumbled whenever Tony asked what his deal was. Not a satisfying answer.

“Historically, unpopular dorks don’t particularly like big social events,” was Tasha’s unconcerned explanation when Tony mentioned something about it during French.

“He’s a foster kid, right?” Steve shrugged it off when they were heading back from PE and Tony pointed out a distant Bruce deliberately moving way out of the path of the table where they were selling prom tickets. “He probably just can’t afford to go.”

Clint didn’t seem to realize there was a prom going on. From the look he shot Tony when Tony mentioned it, he could not have cared less if he tried.

Thor – Thorston Odinson (“of the  _Asgard_ Odinsons, Tony, so make friends with the boy so I can be introduced to his father, I don’t care how weird he is”) – seemed taken aback that anyone wouldn’t be wild about prom. “But it’s a celebration! Dancing and libations! Why would he not wish to go?”

“Your friends are all jock idiots, Tony,” came the first response that he actually agreed with (and the reminder that he should just ask Pepper about things first before he hunted down his admittedly strange friends one by one and asked them).

They were a week away from the dance, and Tony had dragged Pepper to a strategically-located water fountain near a just revoltingly glittery poster for the big night. They watched Bruce walk past, pushing his glasses up his nose, in some serious talk with some other nerdy kid from the math team. They watched Bruce nod at some point his brace-faced companion was making even as his eyes caught on that poster. They watched his shoulders hunch and his eyes avert and his voice fall silent until he was past the poster.

Pepper just raised her eyebrows, turning back to Tony. “So what do you think it is?”

“Huh?” Tony fired back, ever ready with witty repartee.

She pursed her lips, looking at him with that patient-but-amused look that really made him wish he was into girls, because  _seriously_. “You’re the first real friend Bruce has ever had. If you can’t figure out what’s going on in his head, nobody can.”

Tony thought about that, watching Bruce as he and his geek companion turned a corner and left his sight.

“Something else you might want to figure out…” Pepper added before Tony’s attention could wander.

“Hmm? What?”

“Why does it worry you so much?”

Tony just scoffed at that. He hadn’t worried about anything since he was old enough to realize that his dad’s money would solve every problem he ever had.

Pepper gave him that same knowledgeable, patronizing little look that  _almost_ turned him on, and left him behind to think about it. But Tony didn’t have to think hard, because Tony knew things that Pepper in all her condescending hotness didn’t know.

***

He’d ignored Bruce, like everyone else at the school, until about three months in to senior year. He was acing his AP classes and deciding on which college his dad would build a library for to get him admitted into, and then came the crushing blow: a B on a physics test.

Unacceptable. Tony Stark was a genius in a school full of exceptional kids. He would be valedictorian or he would burn the place to the ground.

He went to Mr. Coulson, his teacher, who somehow didn’t seem convinced that the B was world-ending but still recommended a tutor if Tony was seriously that upset. Appalled at the idea that anyone in the universe could presume to tutor _him_  about any subject, Tony faced down the shrimpy, near-invisible kid that Coulson recommended and demanded to know exactly what his qualifications were.

The kid, Bruce, a nonentity in glasses and frumpy, badly-fitted clothes from…from Walmart or Sears or some other pit of polyester hell, simply held up his own copy of the test with a bright A+ and a happy little commendation from Coulson scribbled on the side, and then turned and started to walk away.

Tony jogged to catch up, slung an arm around the kid’s shoulder and admitted that the fucking force vector diagrams were killing him.

And that was pretty much how things went from then on. Tony would blast around showing off to the universe, and Bruce would stand by, quiet and completely unimpressed because he could do everything Tony did, sometimes better.

Bruce was quiet but strong, unassuming but not a pushover. Quiet, smart, geeky, but not some sniveling dweeb who longed to be one of the shiny popular kids. He was calm, usually. Patient and nice and he laughed at Tony’s stupid jokes like everyone did, but with a look in his eyes like he saw right through them.

An hour into their first ‘tutoring’ lesson Tony was completely clear on force vector diagrams. The next week he paid Bruce back by helping with his practicals in AP Chemistry (Bruce was amazing with the written, but during actual lab work he had some kind of stage fright that made experiments go badly). By two months into their friendship, more often than not Bruce would be back at Tony’s house every afternoon ignoring his expensive toys and electronics and simply sitting on his floor, giggling with Tony about quantum suicide thought experiments and how much calmer the history of physics would have been if nobody’d mentioned putting a cat in a box in the first place.

Pepper was right – Tony was Bruce’s first real friend. Bruce told him that himself, admitting it over their textbooks one evening, looking out at Tony with pink cheeks and wide brown eyes, hair curling in his face and glasses sliding off his nose.

What Pepper didn’t know was that that same night Tony had reached out and grabbed his shirt and kissed him for the first time.

Because come  _on_.

Tony knew Bruce. He knew Bruce was adorable and clueless and brilliant, and his family life had been shitty before foster care, and he knew that Bruce’s calm masked an insane temper that had put Thor’s smug little shit of a brother in the hospital when he and his pals tried to corner Bruce one day after school.

He knew Bruce was savvy enough to ignore Tony’s dad when he was being a prick, and kind enough to be there for Tony’s own self-destructive moods, when he would drink himself sick or pop some pill he didn’t know the name of, or wrap his car around a streetlight because sometimes when the cops brought him home his dad fucking paid attention to him for ten minutes.

He knew that Bruce would shiver under his fingers like every hint of a touch was too amazing to tolerate. And Bruce would touch Tony in turn like Tony was the single most fascinating experiment he’d ever seen. Like he had to study and understand Tony’s reactions to every possible stimulus.

The first time he watched Tony get off his eyes had been wide and round, his gaze intense, his mouth open in the o of some profound revelation. The first time Tony got Bruce off Bruce shivered under his hands for long minutes after, his hand clenched in Tony’s shirt as if terrified to be left alone with the feelings that were making him tremble.

Pepper didn’t know that Tony had already made the decision that there was no version of his future without Bruce in it. So she thought Tony was worried about Bruce, but he wasn’t. He was just discontented by the idea that this person he would be dragging along with him everywhere he went in life was still a mystery to him in some ways.

***

“Do you want to go?” he asked Bruce when he couldn’t take it anymore, sitting across from him at the school library doing homework and playing footsie.

It was Thursday, and prom was the very next day.

Bruce looked up too quickly, knowledge in his eyes even as he tried to fake it. “Go where?”

Tony gave him a look.

Bruce sighed. “Not really.”

That surprised Tony, since every possible reason he’d thought up for Bruce’s aversion to prom involved him secretly wishing for some dazzling night out of some stupid movie.

“Are you sure? Because my dad’s got limos on standby, and I could get Jarvis to tailor one of my suits to fit you. Hell, I’ll even get you a corsage if you want. You can be my date.”

They weren’t exactly out to people, but only because Bruce’s personal life was something he held really close, and Tony respected that enough to not gossip about him. Not even to Pepper. But Tony didn’t give a crap if people knew he was taken, or gay, or anything else. They were all enthralled with him anyway and they always would be.

“Tony.” Bruce just smiled. “I don’t want to go. Really.”

“So what’s going on?”

Bruce shut his textbook.

Tony’s eyebrows flew up and he closed his too. This was obviously serious.

“I think…” Bruce hesitated, looking across the table at Tony before glancing around the deserted library. He sighed, tugging off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes, a nervous gesture that Tony was very familiar with.

“I should want to go.”

Tony blinked.

Bruce left his glasses on the table, looking at Tony but not focusing on him. He liked to use his bad vision as a barrier sometimes.

“Ever since I was a kid I was weird. Everybody knew it. My dad…” He made a face, shook his shoulders out, looking very much like he was pushing past a dozen bigger issues centered around that word so he could focus on just this one. “My dad said I was a freak. He used to work with radiation and he said I was some mutant kid because of it, said I wasn’t even normal the day I was born.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully. “For the record, if you ever tell me your father’s full name I will make sure he’s tracked down and killed.”

Bruce squinted over at him and smiled weakly. “Noted. Anyway, he was right. I was always different. I am even now. I’m supposed to care about things that I don’t care about. I’m supposed to want to be a kid like everybody around me, but I don’t. I’ve never been on a date; I don’t want to go on one. Things like that, and prom and football and driving tests and everything else we’re supposed to be so obsessed with…I don’t  _care._ And I think if I did care, even a little, I wouldn’t be a freak.”

“Bruce…”

“I see those posters at school and they just remind me that dad was right about me in some way.” Bruce drew in a breath and picked up his glasses, sliding them on. He met Tony’s stare with a smile. “But we all have our issues. It’s no big deal.”

Tony didn’t argue, but he sure as hell didn’t agree.

He just had to figure out what to do about it.

***

Nothing was impossible for Tony Stark, but some things came easier than others. His dad was a prick but one who gave in to Tony when he wheedled long enough. His friends were overbearing jock idiots but they were good people, even when most of them barely knew Bruce beyond Tony’s endless talking about him.

And arrangements for anything that cost actual money? Please. He could have put something together with an hour’s notice, much less a day.

The next day at school the girls were all giggling about dresses and leaving early to get their hair did and the guys were talking about booking hotel rooms and giving each other high-fives like the horny douchebags they mostly all were. Tony ignored it all, except for the few times he and Bruce passed in the halls and he noticed just how despondent Bruce was looking. Reminders of his weirdness were everywhere that day. But Tony resisted the urge to grab him, stuff him in Tony’s car, and escape until the madness had cleared.

Instead he simply approached him right before last period and thrust a garment bag in his hands.

“Here.”

Bruce fumbled to hold his books and the bag, squinting up at Tony warily. “What’s this?”

“Your suit.”

Bruce wilted a little. “Tony.”

“Put it on after class and meet me in the parking lot.”

“I told you, I don’t want—”

“Bruce.” Tony fired off his best stubborn-rich-boy look. “Obey me.”

Bruce just shook his head even as he got the garment bag slung over his arm. His eyes were sad, betrayed, and he sighed. “Fine. Math club has a meeting after school, you’ll have to wait for me.”

He trudged off.

Tony watched him go, having to stop himself from chasing him and reassuring him that it wasn’t what he thought it was, really.

Instead he ducked out of his last period study hall early and put his own suit on in the bathroom (undignified, especially given the price of the suit, but whatever). He headed out to his care before the final bell rang, and as the few remaining seniors charged to the parking lot to head out and get ready for the big night, he leaned back against his Corvette and made a few phone calls to make sure everything was in place.

Bruce came trudging out around four. His books were in his hand, and he was wearing the suit like it was a skin that fit him wrong. (And okay, Jarvis was a multi-talented and crazy smart guy for a butler, and his quick and mostly flawless hem-work from memory alone deserved more respect than that.)

Tony had to fight a smile, watching Bruce slouch along in a suit that cost more than every outfit Bruce owned put together.

“Come on, get in, it’s a big night.”

Bruce’s stare was cool and angry, but he dropped into the car sulkily and didn’t say a word.

Dinner before a big night like prom was a standard thing. Since they were doing this a little early Tony swung them through a Taco Bell drive-in and they ate in the parking lot, staring at the side of a huge dumpster and dead silent except for the chewing.

“You know…” Bruce said at once point, his voice clipped, his hand crumbling a wrapper tightly.

Tony looked over. “Mmm?”

Bruce just sighed, looking away from him.

Tony rolled his eyes with a grin and got them back on the road, tossing their trash in that dumpster on the way.

When they reached the bland brick cube that was the county library, Bruce finally stirred from his sulk and did something besides glare. “You’re seriously dropping off books or something? I think they closed at…” He trailed off, eyes catching on something.

Tony grinned. The small squadron of limos parking at the side of the otherwise empty lot was hard to miss.

He pulled into a spot and stopped the car, jumping out fast. “Come on.”

Bruce got out more slowly, staring at the limos and then at Tony. “What’s—”

Tony grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the front door. He hadn’t been able to do more than instruct over the phone, so he was gratified to step in to the closed library and see that things had been done almost perfectly.

The tables and displays that normally took up the middle of the large front space were all pushed aside, leaving a big empty space surrounded by crowded shelves. The overhead lights were off, casting the place into a  _sort_ of romantic dimness, if one was being generous. One of the tables was up against the librarian’s desks, covered in a horrible plastic tablecloth and a caterer’s nightmare – bright pink punch in a cheap bowl, plates of cookies and crackers and a big fruit and veggie tray. It was like the cutest little suburban tupperware party.

Everyone was there already – of course, he’d bribed them with free limos for the weekend – dressed in their finery and standing around the dim room chatting.

And God but Tony loved his small and strange group of friends.

Clint and Tasha were both dressed in black, matching pants and long-sleeved shirts and Tasha’s red hair was shoved under a black knit cap. Thor was wearing a monstrosity of a suit with dark purple fabric and gold piping, his hair loose and over his shoulders instead of tucked in his normal ponytail. Steve, bless him, was Mr. All America in his crisp suit, his tie and the flower in his lapel matching his date’s dress. Peggy, maybe, was her name? Student body treasurer or something, a nerd just like Steve. And Pepper was beautiful in a simple pink dress with spaghetti straps and her hair done up around her face. At her side was a kid Tony didn’t know, some dark-haired guy who looked at her like he knew he was totally out of his league. Which he was.

Everyone turned as Tony sauntered in dragging his reluctant date behind him.

“Tony! This punch tickles my nose!” Thor announced with all his normal exuberance.

Tony grinned and headed to them, but a grip on his arm stalled him.

Bruce no longer looked mad, just utterly baffled. “What is all this?” he asked softly, shooting looks over at the odd assortment of people.

“For them? This is a little pre-prom get-together.”

“What about for us?”

Tony just grinned and grabbed Bruce’s hand, pulling him along.

They gathered in around Bruce and made small talk about their plans for the night and munched on pinwheel cookies and laughed a lot at each other. Tony was never more fond of his little dorky group of friends. He liked knowing that he attracted odd people to him, and they were all pretty amazing in their oddness.

It took about two minutes for Pepper to practically adopt Bruce, pulling him to her side and and cooing over his suit and hair until her date was glowering at the poor kid. Tony didn’t blame her: Bruce wasn’t a child, he was the same age as the rest of them, but he projected an air of constant uncertainty that made him seem much more innocent than the rest of them. In school he was as invisible as he could make himself. Here he was in the spotlight because he was with Tony, so most of them were noticing him for the first time.

By the time people were making noise about leaving and getting to the main event, Tony tugged Bruce back to his side as they said their goodbyes. He leaned in and spoke quietly into Bruce’s ear.

“You see Thor? You seriously see what he’s wearing? The guy’s going to go to prom and down punch until he pisses pink and eat enough to feed a village. He’s gonna dance around and shout at people and everyone’s going to laugh at him and he doesn’t give a single shit.” He waved as Thor bounded out the door, ready to take on the world.

“Pepper? She looks nice and innocent and normal, doesn’t she? But she’s got this guy wrapped around her little finger. He’ll be the only guy at the prom who knows for a fact that he’s not getting laid tonight, because she no doubt informed him of that fact when she asked him to be her date. I promise, you will never meet anyone who knows better exactly how to handle people. She’s got her entire future mapped out, and pity the person who tries to interfere with her plans.” He waved at her as she headed for the door, smiling at the guy moving in her wake.

“Steve? Jesus, he might be the worst of the lot. He’s going to escort his date to the dance, hold her at arm’s length and fetch her drinks and pull out her chair when she wants to sit. They probably came from her parents’ house where he assured them that he has nothing untoward planned and he’ll have her back strictly by curfew. You might think he’s normal but people like him simply don’t exist in the real world. He’s likely the biggest freak I know.”

Bruce looked over at him, a small smile on his face.

Tony pointed him towards Clint and Tasha as they finally headed out. He raised his voice, calling out to them, “So where are you two ninjas off to?”

Clint just grinned at them.

Tasha’s smile was more demure. “We’re going to sit in the bushes outside the ballroom the school rented out and shoot paintballs at the outfits of people we don’t like.”

“Yeah, I figured it’d be something like that.” Tony waved them off as Bruce ducked his head in laughter. “You crazy kids have fun.”

“You too.”

The door shut behind the two of them, and Tony and Bruce were suddenly alone in the dark library with a decimated snack table.

Bruce turned to Tony, smiling and relaxed by then. “So what’s your overall theme here? That everyone is a freak in their own ways so I shouldn’t feel bad?”

“Oh god, no. Most people are ridiculously normal and tediously boring.” Tony nodded towards the front doors. “But they’re out there. The freaks, the weirdos. And they’re seriously awesome people. I haven’t even talked about myself yet.”

He pulled out his phone and tapped into the program he’d set up the night before, trusting that the library had been wired up as requested.

Smiling at Bruce, he gestured around at the silent library. “You think I spend my weekends studying with you to be nice? Nope, you’re not the only guy around who doesn’t know what to do with himself when he’s not learning something new. You think I give a crap about dances and mirror balls and DJs? You might be a freak, Bruce, but you’re not alone. I’m not anything like a normal kid, and I never want to be. Especially if being a freak means I get to spend my life with people like you.”

He pulled up the lighting program he’d arranged, and the darkness of the library was suddenly slashed by a thousand gashes of pale light, lines in sets of ones and twos casting over the shelves and tables and putting a warm glow over the place. He pushed another button on the phone and the ‘music’ started, a low voice on a crackling recording speaking softly over their heads.

Bruce looked around in surprise at the light show, and breathed in once the voice started. “Is this…this is the Feynman Lectures! Are these…” He approached the snack table, fingertips reaching out for a flat display of those gashes of light that were serving as their own personal mirror-balls.

He looked back at Tony, eyes glowing, smile bright.

Tony nodded, setting his phone down and approaching. “Projections of enlargements of the double slit experiments.”

Bruce looked around in wonder. “Tony…”

“You like it?”

“This might be the single nerdiest thing I have ever witnessed in my life.”

Tony laughed. “That’s a yes.”

Bruce turned to him. He approached, his hands coming out and grabbing the front of Tony’s suit. His eyes were bright, too bright, but his smile was clear and unshadowed and maybe the most beautiful thing Tony had ever seen.

“That’s a yes,” he confirmed, hauling Tony in by his lapels and kissing him firmly.

Tony managed to get a hand through Bruce’s thick and irresistible hair, pulling him in close and returning the kiss with a strange lightness in his chest.

It was funny, but Tony had never really regarded himself as being weird. He was different, sure, and better than most people. But he never consciously realized how alone that could make a person. Not until that very moment, when he realized that this show he put on for Bruce was really for them both, and this private prom was as much for him as it was for Bruce.

After all, if Bruce was never going to be alone again, that meant that Tony wasn’t either.

He drew back for air, blinking down at Bruce and smiling softly at his dazed eyes and swollen lips. “Want to dance?” he asked with a grin that didn’t manage to be cocky at all.

Bruce shook his head with a laugh. “I like Feynman, but he’s hard to dance to.”

“Want to sit and read each other passages from  _On the Shoulders of Giants_?”

Bruce’s arms slid around Tony’s waist. He shook his head again, smiling bright-eyed at Tony.

Tony swallowed, warmth sliding through his body thanks to that look. “You want to get naked between the stacks and have sex while Feynman talks about inelastic relativistic collisions?”

Bruce’s soft smile shifted to a wicked grin, and he grabbed Tony’s hand and led him back towards the bookshelves.

Maybe he was a freak. Maybe they both were. But it was hard to imagine any kid in the world ever having a better prom night than this.

Except maybe Clint and Tasha. Paintballs were always fun. 


End file.
